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But a date?
He wanted to take me out on a date. That wasn’t casual sex. That wasn’t casual at all.
Aurora: You don’t date, remember?
Noah: And you don’t get involved with hockey players. If you ask me, we’re a match made in heaven, shortcake.
My mouth twitched, and I quickly texted back before I changed my mind.
Aurora: One date. But no one can know, Noah.
Noah: It’ll be our little secret.
Secrets were a slippery slope. I knew that firsthand. I’d lived it. And yet, I wanted a date with Noah.
Because he made me feel beautiful, Noah had made me feel worth something.
And despite the little voice in my head telling me that it was a really bad idea, it was a feeling I wanted to hold onto for as long as possible.
“What an asshole,” Harper said as we wandered across the lawn toward the student center.
“Yep. That’s why I don’t date.”
“But I don’t get it,” she frowned, “he approached you. I was so sure he was one of the decent ones.”
I shrugged. “I don’t know what to tell you. He was more interested in my porn star tits than me.”
She tsked in disgust.
I hadn’t told her the entire story—the part where he’d laughed to his friend about my appearance. I also hadn’t told her about Noah coming to my rescue, something that had made the last two hours awkward, to say the least.
“So, do you think he likes me?” she asked.
“Sorry, what?”
“Noah, silly. Do you think—”
“Harper, you can do so much better than Noah Holden.”
I was going to hell.
There was a spot reserved just for me with the placard worst friend in the history of friends.
“Yeah, but like I said, I don’t want to marry the guy. He’s just so freaking hot.”
“What about Mason? Or my brother?”
“Hold up,” she grabbed my arm, stopping me, “I distinctly remember you telling him I was off-limits.”
“My bad.” I flushed. “I don’t know why I said that.”
“Rory”—her gaze narrowed—“is there something going on between you and Noah?”
“What? No. He would never want someone like me.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“You said it yourself, Harper. Ryan is more my type.”
